


A Ship on the Horizon

by jenzes



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: F/F, Femslash, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Romance, cute drunken misadventures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-29
Updated: 2017-08-29
Packaged: 2018-12-21 10:52:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11942607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenzes/pseuds/jenzes
Summary: Really short fic about some random fluffy romantic shenanigans. Hawke and Isabela drunkenly decide to sneak onto a ship in the kirkwall harbour in the early hours of the morning because im sappy (probably sometime in the years before act 2 starts)This is my first time posting so here i go tell me what you think :)





	A Ship on the Horizon

“Hey, that one’s new.”  
“Hmm?” Hawke looked up absentmindedly from her book, “Oh yeah, Varric mentioned them, some traders in from Denerim I think.”  
Isabela’s eyes were bright with mischief as she leaned her elbows on the hot brickwork overpass, her gaze wandering up the mast of the sleek frigate recently moored at the end of the pier.   
“Well” she said, “Isn’t she something.”  
“Oh yes, it’s a very good boat, very boatlike.”  
“Oh shut it you,” Isabela aimed a kick in Hawke’s direction, “I am appalled at how little you know about sailing, considering we live in a city nearly on top of the water.”  
Hawke shrugged, “I don’t know what you want from me darling if it floats it all looks the same to me.”  
Isabela sighed, “You have no taste Hawke, sad really.”  
Hawke hopped down from the ledge she was perched on and slid a hand around Isabella's waist, bringing their smirking lips within inches of each other, “And you have the best taste,” she whispered before pulling away and heading off down the dusty street back up into the city.  
Isabela groaned, yelling after her “You are the absolute worst tease, Hawke.”  
“Come on you louse,” she called back over her shoulder, “quit drooling over the pretty ships and let’s get going, I hear Fenris challenged our man the dwarf to a drinking contest, and I want in.”

In the night streets of the lowtown slums the muffled clamour of rambunctious drunken sailors and labourers and the slightly off tune but enthusiastic piping of a flute briefly flared up and rang down the streets before returning to the standard muted din of a tavern at night as a drunken Hawke banged out through the door of the Hanged Man with a swaying Isabela close behind.  
“Hawke,” she giggled slinging an arm around Marian’s bony shoulder, “Haaaaawke.”  
“Shhshush,” Hawke slurred, mashing her finger against Isabela’s cheek, only prompting another fit of stifled laughter from the two, “You told me we were sneaking out. Be qu-quiet.” She paused, her brow furrowing, “Where are we sneaking to?”  
They stumbled along down the street, propping each other up, “Listen Ivan ahdee.” Isabela began, “Hold on,’ she paused to collect herself and enunciate, “I have an idea.”  
“Me too, it’s called rum and i ha--”  
“No no shh--yes but--I have got a real idea.”  
“Is rum not a real idea?”  
“Listen Hawke, Hawke listen-let’s sneak onto that nice ship we saw earlier.” She beamed.  
Hawke squinted, trying to formulate her words, “You have got a boat brain.”  
“You known the docks will be deserted by now,” Isabela urged happily, “And I’m pretty sure I saw the crew back at the hanged man.”  
Hawke shrugged, “Ah well, You know I can’t resist a beautiful woman asking me to commit petty crime.”

Somehow they managed to navigate the winding lowtown alleyways and the obscenely long staircase down to the docks in one piece. There were a few dying torches flickering dimly in hollowed alcoves, but the area was mostly silent and sleeping. Unaware of the two mildly inebriated vagrants cavorting through the streets. At the far end of the waterfront, a drowsy guard was posted where the main thoroughfare turned into a spidering quay stretching out into the bay where the large seaworthy ships were moored.  
Hawke nodded towards the nearly asleep guard, “Good to see the cities coin hard at work. How do you suggest we elude his vigilance?”  
“We can take our clothes off an--”  
“Oh?” Hawke interjected  
“Hush you saucy wench, and we can swim across!” Isabela said, pulling Hawke down a set of stone steps to where the water lapped gently at the smooth white bricks.  
Marian tugged off her boot and dipped a toe in the water, and as she did so Isabela swung her hips around and tipped her in with a light shove, leaping into the cool seawater behind her spluttering companion with a gleeful cry. Whooping and laughing they swam out through the bay, their laughter stretching across the gently rolling surface of the water, all thought of secrecy forgotten.  
At last they pulled themselves, dripping and breathless, over the side of the ship and lay panting on the deck.  
“So Captain Isabela,” said Hawke, “Aren’t you going to show me around. We have gone through all this trouble after all.”  
“On your feet sailor,” Isabela rolled over and pulled Hawke up with her. Then she paused, running her hand along the dark painted bannister. She gazed up at the furled sails suspended above them and slid her eyes over the rigging and structure of the ship in rapture. Whistling under her breath she sighed dreamily, “What I wouldn't give to take this beauty out under a good eastern breeze.”  
“I always thought it was the bigger the better with this sort of thing,” Hawke mused pointing out across the port at a large frigate hulking in the dark waters, “Why not that one?”  
“That tub is only good for showing off your coin,” Isabela scoffed “If you want to outrun raiders off the Antivan coast, or,” she winked, “do a little raiding yourself, you’d better be quick. Look at the way this one is built, sturdy and tough, but you can tell she’s got speed by the way she sits in the water. If you’re clever that’s what you look for.”  
Hawke shrugged, a twinkle in her eye, “Well I guess I’ll just have to take you along if I ever happen to find myself embarking on a dashing sea-bound adventure won’t I?”  
“Oh Hawke,” she said wistfully, “don’t make a girl promises like that, you’re getting my hopes up.”  
Marian tugged at her arm, “Let’s see what you look like behind the wheel then shall we?”  
“Have I mentioned how much I like you lately?”  
Hawke grinned as they sprung up the stairs to the ship’s wheel. Isabela grasped it firmly, and a sad smile crept upon her face. After a moment she said,  
“I miss it sometimes you know...the wind...the freedom,” she gave hawke a sideways glance and said cheekily, “a boatload of strapping men at my command.  
“Not that i regret anything of course, no point in that, but something about it, with the waves in every direction, the sea the sky, everything around you it’s all blue and you just don’t know where the wind is going to take you that day... I miss that.”  
Hawke shook her head, “How do you make being lost at sea sound like fun?”  
Isabela tilted her head to the side, “Come to think of it that’s kind of what hanging around you is like.” she laughed, “No wonder I like you.”  
The moon had come and gone long ago and the night was bathed in the light blue glow that just hints at the existence of morning. Isabela held the solid oak wheel in her hands, running her palms along the smooth sea-worn wood, her eyes half closed and dreaming of days to come. Hawke leaned forward across the wheel and their lips met on the sea in the early morning blue. In a few hours a rosy dawn would begin edging its way back into the world and the sun would force them all back into waking hours; but as they kissed, hair damp with saltwater, on a boat they imagined as their own, drinking each other in like they were drowning, they were the only thing that mattered.  
“One day Hawke,” Isabela gasped as they drew apart at last, “One day i’ll take you sailing.”  
Hawke smiled wryly, “Will there be refreshments provided?”  
In a few hours the sun would come up and the guards would shout at them for trespassing and they would run breathless and exhausted through the hot stinking city, and all their problems would come crashing back in on top of a wicked hangover; but the night was still cool, and the horizon had yet to betray them.


End file.
